


Ocean Sweetness

by thethaumas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4779974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethaumas/pseuds/thethaumas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has escaped to the beach and now works part time in a candy store pulling taffy, which is where Draco accidentally happens upon him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ocean Sweetness

The hot water beat down on Harry's back and the smell of cooking sugar wafted up from Harry's skin at the contact. All his showers tended to smell sweet after he finished a shift at Ye Olde Sweet Shoppe, the freshly made candy store on the pier. Harry had moved out to the coast after the war, finding the peace of the water to be one of the few things that helped keep him calm and keep the nightmares away. Instead he'd dream of the same salty breeze that came in through the open windows of his flat, of warm sand between his toes, and occasionally a soft laugh from the faceless person who sometimes appeared. He had an active floo set up in his den, he had no desire to isolate himself completely, and he would have missed Ron and Hermione with an aching fierceness if he had no way to just pop over for Thursday night dinners. But he did appreciate the general seclusion he had now from the hubbub of living in the small bubble of the British wizarding world.

He'd moved out here just a few years ago, at the time he'd just come to the beach for a bit of a break. Ron and Hermione had come along and they'd spent a lovely week just relaxing under the summer sun. At the time Ginny was doing trials for the Harpies, they were eager to sign her before she even graduated the following May. They'd put their relationship to rest at the time, and left things as they were as time went by. Harry was a little relieved, he felt like he needed time to just be himself for a while.

Then Hermione started talking about her application to Oxborough--a wizarding university just outside of London where she wanted to study law. And so Ron began to hem and haw about starting training as an auror, but Harry noticed that the looks Ron gave him whenever the topic came up weren't anxiously excited, but a little more tinged with worry than anything. They ended up sitting atop the roof of the old slanting house they were staying in, talking well into the night about their unknown future, now that it was something they could think about at all.

Ron broached the topic first saying, "You know, I know we've talked about being auror partners a lot." Then he stopped, his words swallowed by the night as Harry curiously watched his friend. Ron scuffed the sole of his shoe on some of the roof shingles before he looked over at Harry, a tight smile on his face. "But. Well. I just want you to know that if you've decided you don't want to do that anymore, I'm not gonna be mad at you or anything."

Harry felt a frisson of surprise travel down his spine and blinked. He'd been thinking that he might not want to be an auror, those dreams of his felt like they belonged to a different person now. Harry supposed, in a way, he was a different person than he was even two years ago. It wasn't something he'd talked to anyone about yet--but being here by the water made him feel right and whole in a way he'd not felt since he'd stepped into the forest that May. Ron was watching him warily so Harry shot him a grateful grin. "Thanks, I'm glad. I think you'll be stellar at it, but--" Harry shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. Then he squared his shoulders as he came to a decision. "I think I want to stay here for a while."

This time it looked like he had successfully surprised Ron. Once he found his voice again Ron asked, "Really? Here? 

"Yeah," Harry said with a shrug. "It just feels right."

And so he stayed. Hermione helped him find a nice place to lease while he figured himself out. Then he'd stumbled across the "help wanted" sign in the candy shoppe about a week after. He'd gone in to apply before he even really thought about it. Harry didn't work full time, he would do a few morning shifts in the week and come in for the afternoons on the weekends to make a bit of a show for the gap-toothed kids who came here on holiday with their parents. He didn't mind that kind of attention, the tourists weren't there to see Harry Potter, they stopped in because of the sweet enticing smell of cooking sugar, and they watched, riveted, when he would pull the fresh saltwater taffy. All of them eager and entranced by the way candy was made. Harry just enjoyed being able to create something with his hands that made others happy.

Harry had made a few friends here, the crew at the candy shoppe, the older man who worked at the local pet store who let Harry come by and walk the dogs a few times a week, the harried mother who lived in the building next to him who once asked Harry to babysit and now he found himself with a two-child shadow during the summer months when little Whitney and Morris would get bored and hope he’d sneak them free taffy. There was even a small wizarding community, which  he’d found quite by accident. They were a little overwhelming, but since they were a bit more detached from what had happened, Harry did not find himself fawned over like he would if he tried to go to Diagon Alley.

Sometimes when he’d visit Ron and Hermione, or Neville, or when Ginny would pop by in the off season when she wasn’t training--they’d all ask him if he was happy out here with this kind of incredulous undertone like they didn’t understand how he could be happy where he was. Harry knew they meant well though, so he didn’t take offense, he’d just smile and ask if they wanted to visit and try some of his taffy. George would come by more often than anyone else, he was so interested in the ways that muggles made their sweets--though Harry had to stop him on multiple occasions from trying to sneak his joke candies into the shoppe.

It was nearing the end of September in Harry’s fifth year living on the water, the tourist season was tapering off as the cold bite of winter loomed on the horizon. They still had a good amount of people coming up on weekends to take advantage of the last vestiges of summer. Harry was pulling at a large slab of taffy, stretching it out and looping it back to stretch again, there were just two children with the faces pressed up against the viewing glass, and when Harry turned to look at them they both broke out in grins and waved at him. He could see a tall woman over by the cash, it looked like she was giving Kenneth an earful by the way the teenager was slouching in on himself. Harry had half a mind to go over and see if he could help, when Rena, the front store manager came up to the two of them. Harry just shook his head and continued pulling the taffy, he could hear the little giggles of the kids and was glad they were enjoying themselves at least.

The front door’s bell rang with its customary “ding”, and with it opening a burst of cold air blew into the shop. Harry turned to check the door was closed and nearly dropped the taffy he was handling. There in the doorway, looking more windswept and casual than Harry had ever seen him, was Draco Malfoy. Harry felt his cheeks heat, he opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head, and then continued to pull the taffy like nothing unusual was going on. Like a ghost from his past hadn’t just stepped through the door and rattled him completely, without even realizing that Harry was there. Well, Harry was pretty sure Malfoy didn’t know that he was there, he hadn’t been looking in Harry’s direction when Harry looked at the door--but Harry was in the window specifically to draw attention and potential customers. His shoulders tensed and he kept his head down as he continued to work. He didn't know if he wanted Malfoy to leave the store without recognizing Harry, or if he wanted Malfoy to realize he was there.

It wasn't like he could have forgotten about Malfoy, not after, after everything. Harry found himself wondering what had happened to his old schoolyard rival turned what? They'd saved each other's lives in the end. Harry had testified on his behalf, and the last he'd heard Malfoy was under a two year house arrest sentence that he'd had to serve out in a muggle home. Harry didn't subscribe to the prophet, and he felt like if he asked after Malfoy he'd get that sad frown from Hermione before she asked him if he'd thought about why Malfoy always got under his skin. So he didn't know what Malfoy had been up to.

It wasn't like he hadn't thought about why Malfoy, above so many other people and things, always captured his attention. But, despite everything. Despite knowing that Draco had a streak of weakness but a strong heart and strong enough morals to not be able to kill--Harry didn't know him. Not really, not who he really was. But Harry had decided to find out who he himself was without a prophecy over his head or a part of an evil man's soul latched upon his own, by moving out here. So perhaps the same could be said for Malfoy,  that now the war had ended he could figure out who he was too.

Harry rolled out his tense shoulder and gave the taffy a long yank. He was thinking too much about this, it wasn't likely going to matter. Malfoy had probably left the store by now without even recognizing Harry anyway.

Then Rena came over to the kitchen, a sly grin on her face that Harry knew spelled trouble. "Oi, Harry!” She called as she walked in. "You've got yourself an admirer!" She said with a nod to the window back to the store.

Harry startled and turned to look, just in time to see Malfoy turning quickly away, a flush staining his pale skin. 

"Oh." Harry breathed and tried to make sense of that. "We went to school together, he probably just recognizes me, is all." Harry said with a shrug.

Rena's grin grew wider. "An old school chum, eh?" She walked over to the sink and washed her hands before pulling on some gloves. "I'll take over, you go out there and say hello to your friend."

"He's not--" Harry tried to explain, but Rena shouldered him away from the taffy and shooed him out.

Harry heaved a sigh big enough to pull his shoulders in and walked over to the front of the store, taking his gloves and hairnet off as he did. He was a little amused to note that Malfoy had turned back around and watched Harry’s progress to the front of the store with keen eyes. Amused that is, until he was face-to-face with Malfoy for the first time in years. The other man was not as lean as he’d been the last time Harry saw him--which would have been worrisome if he was. Malfoy’s sharp gaunt edges had filled out into more chiseled lines and dramatic angles. His hair was shorter than Harry had ever seen it, and was loose and windblown, though Harry could see that Malfoy had pushed it out of his face by the way it stuck up a little oddly. It was strange looking at Malfoy’s eyes and not seeing them filled with hatred, ire, or fear. He looked hesitant, and a little uncertain, but overall he looked--well, slightly pleased, if anything. It threw Harry, and he wasn’t sure what to say.

“Hello, Potter,” Malfoy said, filling the silence for him and regarding Harry with an incline of his head.

"Malfoy," Harry replied with a nod of his own. He didn't know how to talk to Malfoy. Should he ask after his health? Or what he'd been doing for the past three years? They had never been on friendly terms that would allow for such innocuous conversation. So Harry went with asking, "Is there anything I can help you find?"

Malfoy blinked, obviously startled and not expecting the question. "Oh. Not really. I just came in to see what that smell was." He said, his words trailing off at the end like he'd started to think of something else.

Harry grinned, this he could work with. "That's probably the smell of the cooking sugar we do to make the caramel. We make the best caramel apples on the whole pier." Harry boasted, though it wasn't really a competition, they were the only place making fresh caramel apples. He moved over to the display with the various different flavours they made. "You like apples, right?" He asked offhand as he studied their offerings. They had classic caramel, a few variations rolled in candies, but, if memory served about Malfoy's sweet tooth, Harry thought he might like the apple pie one the best. Harry chose the best looking one off the tray and turned back to Malfoy, who was watching him, quiet and curious. "I think you'll like this one," Harry said, handing it over and feeling his cheeks warm at the surprised expression on Malfoy's face.

"I--" Malfoy faltered and reached out to take the apple from Harry, his cheeks sporting a light dusting of pink. "Thank you."

"No problem," Harry said with a grin, feeling a bit like he'd lost his footing. He couldn't stop smiling at Malfoy, and he probably looked like he'd gone unhinged. He attempted to smooth out his expression and said, "We can cut it up for you, if you like? You get more even flavoring if you eat it in slices."

Malfoy's eyes glinted in amusement. "Sure," he said and handed the apple back. While Harry busied himself with preparing the apple Malfoy said in a drawling tone that Harry was accustomed to hearing from him, "What are you even doing out here, Potter?"

"Well," Harry started with a huffed laugh, "I'm getting this dessert prepared for a customer right now, then I'll probably check how Rena's doing with the taffy." He turned back to Malfoy and handed him the cut up apple in a disposable plate. 

Malfoy took the offered treat, an eyebrow raised. "That wasn't what I meant, and you know it."

"Yeah," Harry agreed cheekily. "What are you doing out here, yourself?"

"Vacation, of course." Malfoy said vaguely. Then he nodded at Harry and said, "Cheers, Potter," before he turned and left the store.  

Harry watched him go, feeling slightly dumbstruck by the whole encounter. It took him a beat to realize he'd never even charged Malfoy for the apple. He groaned and trudged back to the kitchen to let Rena know.

\----

Draco walked from the candy store with a quick even stride, making a beeline for the low stone wall that separated part of the pier from the beach. That had--that had been unexpected. He took a careful seat on the wall and gingerly picked up a slice of apple. Ignoring the strange urge to sniff it, he took a bite. The sharp tang of the green apple was complimented well by the creamy white chocolate and smooth caramel. Potter was right, Draco liked it.

When he had walked along the pier he had been entranced by the smell of sugar, but when he went into the shop and saw the young man pulling taffy, all shoulder muscles and quiet strength, Draco had felt a hot spike of attraction shoot down his spine. It was so quick, it happened before he even registered that he knew the man. Not only that, but that it was Potter, who had disappeared from the wizarding world shortly after he'd won the war.

He still felt thrown, even now as he watched the water and nibbled on the apple slices. It wasn't just that he'd accidentally stumbled upon Potter. But that Potter had seemed rather jovial overall, and even knew that Draco liked apples--not just apples though, Potter somehow knew his taste well enough to pick out something for him that Draco would enjoy. Draco didn't know what to do with this information.

After Potter had testified at his trial, Draco was sentenced to spend two years under house arrest in a muggle youth home. Draco didn’t even know that that ministry had connections with the muggle world to such a capacity--but his sentence was a popular one for other younger adults who had found themselves fighting on the wrong side. He was informed that the idea behind it was that if they lived like muggles for the duration and learned about muggle culture, and muggle lives, they’d learn to be more accepting of muggles and come to terms with the error of their ways. Draco had come to terms with the errors in his thinking while the war was still waging, but he could at least admit to himself now, even if he hadn’t been able to at the start, that he had still held onto the same bigoted beliefs he’d been raised with. It took a while to let those go, even when he was trying.

Those first months living in the home with the muggle teenagers were a dark splotch of memory--most of that was his fault. He’d held onto his bitterness about the sentence for a long while. Until he’d ended up having a meltdown in the shared gardens, where the house Mom was teaching them how to grow fruit and veg that could flourish in the city. She found him sitting under one of the large trees, Franchesca was an older woman, a bit older than his mother if he had to guess, and while very kind she never let any of them get away with anything. At first, when she found him there under the shade, his face puffy and red from crying in frustration, she’d been kind and helped him calm down. Then with a no-nonsense attitude she told him how his actions and lack of ability to accept his new situation were what was really to blame for his current misery. “If you’d just come to terms with the way things are now, you can learn to accept this as your life while you work on making it into something you can be proud of, Draco.”

It took him another month to admit to himself that she was right. It wasn’t necessarily easy riding from there on out, but it was easier than it had been. He was friendlier with those he shared the house with, he learned about how to use the kitchen more effectively, he ventured out to go shop in muggle stores, and gradually learned his way around the muggle world. It was pretty similar to the wizarding one, except they had all these gadgets and ways to make their lives easier whereas wizards got to use magic. Though, Draco did develop and affinity for their fashion over the cumbersome robes he had been so used to wearing. He still preferred a nicely tailored robe for a formal occasion, but he could certainly appreciate the light airiness to muggle summer wear. 

He had often wondered about Potter while he was under his sentence, he wondered what Potter had done with his wand, he wondered if he’d ever see Potter again to get it back--and maybe, he wondered in the waning hours of the night, maybe he could get to know Potter better. In the cold light of day however, he would push those fantasies aside, Potter had disappeared, and even if he hadn’t, he hated Draco, and Draco had rather made sure of that throughout the years.

Only now could he admit to himself that his preoccupation with getting Potter’s attention hadn’t stemmed from real hatred, that all he’d ever wanted was Potter to actually look at him. Look at him as an equal. 

Draco bit another slice of apple, the tart and sweetness exploding on his tongue. Now that he’d found Potter, he wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t like he’d really been looking for the other man. Of course Draco wondered what had happened to Potter, but like his night fantasies about befriending Potter, all those wonderings were things he’d push to the back of his mind in the light of day. Except now he was faced with the reality he’d accidentally stepped into, and the question he had to answer was, what would he do now? 

For a while, he just stayed on the low stone wall by the beach and thought over his options as he finished off the apple Potter picked out for him. When the sun was lower in the sky he stood and stretched. He had planned on being out here for the week, so he decided he’d make the most of it. First, to see how long Potter’s shift ran for, he certainly owed him for the apple. Draco wasn’t about to let an opportunity pass him by. Potter had been very friendly with him, and Draco wasn’t above seeing where that could lead. Not after how long he had wanted Potter’s attention.

Potter wasn’t at the store anymore, the other two people who worked there were busy cleaning up to close, but the woman gave Draco a wide grin and said that Harry shouldn’t be hard to find since he spent much of his time by the water. Draco nodded his thanks to her and set off to find Potter.

Potter turned out to be harder to track down than she had let on. Not wanting to feel like some sort of needy stalker, Draco returned to the muggle hotel he was staying in that was nestled right up to the beach. He’d try again tomorrow. His trip had originally been just to have a week to relax before the busy fall and winter seasons picked up, Draco was working with the muggle liaison offices in the ministry now, and was spearheading the project to publish books to help young witches and wizards learn about their muggle neighbours and the ways that muggles thought about history. Now though he had something to focus on, Potter. 

\---

Draco tried to not be obvious about why he kept coming back to the candy store, he’d always pick out a new treat for himself, and after three days he definitely had enough sweet gifts for everyone in his office and then some. And yet, he kept coming back. Potter had always effortlessly captured Draco’s attention when they were in school, and now Draco was riveted every time he came by and Potter was pulling more taffy, showing off how muscular he’d become from his job.

Draco wasn’t even sure Potter had noticed his frequent attendance. He certainly seemed focused on his work every time Draco stopped by. After his third visit, Draco decided he needed a better approach to get Potter’s attention. He’d picked up a few novels from the bookstore down the pier, so he planted himself in one of the benches across from the store and started to read.

It wasn’t long before the bench dipped as someone sat down next to him. 

“What are you after, Malfoy? Some kind of scoop for the Prophet?” Potter’s familiar voice came, sounding strained and tired.

Draco put his book down slowly, feeling only slightly affronted that Potter thought he’d do such a thing, since he probably would have a few years ago. “No,” he said as he put his bookmark in place and looked up at Potter. His eyes met Potter’s green ones and finding himself as the focus of that gaze after so long made his mouth dry. Merlin, he’d missed Potter even more than he realized. “I have no intention of telling anyone where you are.” Draco explained. He really didn’t. If Potter wanted to live his life out here by the water, Draco wasn’t going to be the one to ruin that for him.

Potter’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “So what do you want then?” he asked after a moment, still eyeing Draco suspiciously.

“I do owe you for that apple,” Draco said, shifting so he could take his wallet out of the pocket of his loose trousers. He didn’t miss the way Potter’s eyes widened when he saw Draco pull muggle notes out of his wallet.

Potter held out a hand, palm open to stop Draco from handing him the money. “Look, it’s fine, you don’t owe me anything. I was just--surprised to see you, is all.”

Draco pushed the money into Potter’s unwilling grasp anyway, he already owed Potter so much, he didn’t feel like adding to his debt. “As was I,” he said with a small frown. 

Potter’s hand went slack and he looked at Draco with his eyes wide. “You didn’t know I’d be here?”

“No,” Draco said and let out a huff of frustration when Potter still wouldn’t take his money. It was perfectly good money, he didn’t see what the problem was. “I had no idea.” 

“Then what are you doing here?” Potter was blinking owlishly at him now, like he could somehow suss out Draco’s motives if he _stared_ hard enough. Which, Draco belatedly realized he might be able to, and put up his occlumency shields. It wasn’t that he had anything to hide really (well, he mentally amended, he certainly didn’t need Potter knowing his real motives for wanting his attention), but it wouldn’t do to just let others poke around in his mind. Potter’s expression didn’t change, which led Draco to believe that he might have been mistaken about his legilimency talents.

He shrugged. “Like I said earlier, I’m here on vacation. It was just happenstance that I’d be vacationing in the same city you live.” He bit his tongue to keep from saying something glib about fate, meeting Potter like this was too easy and coincidental for him to feel like he could thumb his nose at fate in this moment. He put his wallet away, he'd have to repay Potter later. 

Potter shook his head and sat back against the bench. “Of all the people to walk into my store and find me without even trying, of course it would be you Malfoy.” He gave Draco a sly grin that had his insides squirming. “I don’t know why I’m even surprised at this point.” He let out a laugh that had his head tilting backward, almost like he was laughing at the sky. Draco just watched him feeling slightly bemused, until Potter snapped his head back up and his gaze was focused on Draco once more. “But then why did you keep coming back, if not to get some kind of scoop?”

Draco could feel a flush blossoming on his cheeks and cursed his fair skin that made his emotions too obvious. “I don’t know,” he lied and looked away from Potter, over his shoulder to where waves were crashing onto the shore.

“You don’t know?” Potter asked, and then suddenly he was much closer, his words a whisper. “Or you won’t tell me?”

It felt like he had touched one of the muggle electric sockets, like some sort of current was passing over his skin, how antsy Draco felt in that moment. He pressed his lips into a firm line before letting out a defeated breath, “You don’t want to know.”

Whatever answer Potter was expecting, it obviously wasn’t that. Draco could practically feel his body tense, they were sitting so close together. “I think I can judge that for myself, thanks,” Potter said quietly.

Exasperated, and feeling like his back teeth were ringing from those words that niggled something in his memory, Draco snapped his gaze back over to Potter’s face. Potter was looking at him with naked curiosity, only marred by the customary determination that his expression seemed to always carry. Draco could feel himself crumble under the weight of Potter’s gaze. “You really won’t like it,” he said weakly, knowing already that he’d lost this battle of wills, but not willing to give it up yet.

"How do you know, if you won't tell me?" Potter asked, his tone still quiet and gentle like Draco had never heard directed at him.

It made him feel reckless. It made him feel like it'd be fine to tell Potter anything. A very dangerous thing indeed. Draco was pretty sure he'd sick up if he tried to get the words out. So he didn't try. He studied Potter's face for a moment, it was open and curious, no suspicion anymore, like he never really suspected Draco to begin with. That thought had something warm and unfamiliar uncurling in Draco’s stomach. Then he acted before thinking about it too much, and cupped Potter’s face in his hands, and for a split second he could revel in the shock on Potter’s face before he leaned forward and kissed him soundly on the lips.

Draco felt like he’d lit every nerve ending on fire as soon as their lips touched. He was overcome by an odd and unfamiliar giddiness.

And then after a moment, he pulled away before Potter had a chance to react and push him away himself. The reality of what he’d just done came crashing into him and he stared down at Potter’s wide eyed expression with a very similar one of his own before he bolted. Draco jumped over the low wall to the beach and ran down the sand toward where he was staying. Anywhere was better than staying to see Potter’s reaction.

\----

Harry sat on the bench feeling heavier than usual in his shock. He brought up his hand to press his fingers against his lips in an attempt to convince himself that what just happened, actually happened. Out of all the things he thought Malfoy might say for why he kept coming around to the store, Harry never expected Malfoy to kiss him. It hadn’t been bad, on the list of bad kisses Harry had in his life this one would likely only be on there due to how fleeting it was.

Did he mind being kissed by Malfoy? Harry asked himself as he pushed at his lips with his fingers. Did he want to kiss Malfoy back? A pleasurable shudder passed down his spine at the thought, and okay, so maybe he did. Maybe he found Malfoy attractive now. Harry swallowed, his fingers pressing hard into his lips, but he hardly noticed. He didn’t know who Malfoy was now, how he’d changed, what he believed in anymore. How could Harry want to kiss someone without knowing them?

He blinked and brought himself back to the present. He could get to know Malfoy. There wasn’t anything stopping him from doing that. Except, he looked around now, fully realizing that Malfoy had actually _run away_ from him. A hysterical laugh bubbled up out of Harry’s chest and he picked up Malfoy’s discarded book before he sprung up and ran in pursuit of Malfoy.

For some reason Malfoy had decided to run on the beach, and another laugh burst forth from Harry’s chest, of course Malfoy would try to escape through the most difficult means possible. Since he was unaccustomed to running on the sand, Malfoy wasn’t that difficult to catch up to.

“Malfoy!” Harry called as he neared, his trainers sliding on the sand, but he was able to keep his balance better than Malfoy, who kept stumbling up ahead of him. Malfoy’s head whipped back and his eyes widened in fear when he saw Harry was giving chase, but he didn’t stop or slow down. “Draco, stop!” Harry tried again, still thundering on toward him.

“No!” Malfoy shouted back and stumbled again. 

Harry paced him easily and reached out to grab Malfoy’s shoulder to stop him at the same time Malfoy stumbled on another mound of sand, and with Harry’s momentum behind him they ended up crashing down and sprawling out in the sand. 

“I’m sorry!” Malfoy yelled, sitting up and pushing sand out of his face. “It didn’t mean anything.” he said, quieter, but his eyes were still wide and scared like he expected Harry to attack him.

In a way, Harry thought as he sat up and recovered himself, he sort of had. He winced, that wasn’t what he’d wanted at all. “No, look, Malfoy--” and up close like this he saw the slight flinch on Malfoy’s face when Harry called him that. “Draco,” he amended, “I’m not mad, okay?” Harry rose his hands in a placating manner and smiled.

Draco scoffed, “Of course you’re mad, you just chased me down the beach and accosted me.” He rose his chin in an imitation of his old sneer, but he was trembling slightly and it didn’t hold the weight it used to.

“That was an accident,” Harry said with another wince. “I’m sorry. I just--I didn’t want you to keep running.” He held out Draco’s book to him, saying, “and anyway, you forgot this.”

“Oh,” Draco said, looking at the book like he’d never seen one before. Then he shuffled closer so he could take it from Harry’s hands. “Thank you.” Draco pulled it in close to his chest, and looked up at Harry again. “I really am sorry. I told you that you wouldn’t like why.”

“You just surprised me,” Harry rushed to say. “I didn’t expect you to want to kiss me.” he said, feeling his skin heat and kind of wishing they were talking about anything else. But he wanted to talk about this, he wanted to see what could happen here.

Draco flushed pink and Harry felt a little charmed by how often he’d been able to bring a blush to Draco’s face in the past week--he was getting a little addicted to coaxing it to his skin. “Oh. Well. Yes. It doesn’t matter, I swear.”

Hesitantly, Harry put his hand over Draco’s which was holding his book in a white-knuckled grip. “Of course it matters,” he said in a whisper. “I just, I don’t feel like I really know you, you know?” Harry asked, and saw how Draco’s face immediately shuttered at his words. “No--shit. That.” Harry blew out a breath and tried again, “I’d like to get to know you.”

He could feel Draco’s hand clench underneath his own, and sat still under Draco’s scrutinizing gaze. “Really?” Draco asked in a small, hopeful voice that made Harry’s heart feel like it was thundering in his chest.

“Definitely,” Harry said with a grin. “Do you wanna go get some dinner? Unless you ate while you were out here waiting for me?”

Draco’s blush deepened in color, much to Harry’s delight, but he shook his head and smiled at Harry. “No, I’ve not eaten.”

“Great!” Harry said and stood up, then held out a hand to help Draco to his feet. “Come on, we have some of the best fish and chips you’ll have ever tasted here.”

Draco studied Harry for another moment, his eyes flickering from Harry’s face to his outstretched hand and then back again. Then he took Harry’s hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. The hand that had been clutching his book now held it loosely to his side. “All right, show me what your little town is made of, Harry.” A thrill went up Harry’s spine at hearing his name from Draco’s mouth.

“Careful, or you might not ever want to leave.” Harry said with a grin. There was a moment when Draco’s face grew serious again before he returned Harry’s smile and let Harry lead him back down the beach to where the shops were nearly all nestled together competing for space on the pier.

Harry would never be sure if he’d heard correctly, or if it was just the wind off the water playing tricks on him, but he thought he heard Draco whisper, “Why would I want to?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://cassiafrankincense.tumblr.com/)!


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